


Walk A Mile in My Footsie

by QueenofHalicarnassus (orphan_account)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Anger, Blindness, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Prompto Spoilers, Everyone Has Issues, Fix-It, Forgiveness, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Little Noctis, Noctis Whump, Reconciliation, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Some Humor, Team as Family, everyone gets hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-21 19:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/QueenofHalicarnassus
Summary: On the train from Altissia Ardyn attacks, but instead of getting Prompto thrown off of the train he turns Noctis physically into a four year old hoping it will stop the group's efforts to end the starscourge. With the events of Altissia behind them, and all of them broken by something, they have to rally together and hold each other up.





	1. Chapter 1

Noctis was slumped down in his train seat, eyes stuck fast to the floor. Gladio had just stomped away, having thrown out one last bitter comment. Something to do with Noctis being a coward. Now Noctis was rolling the ring around in his right hand, nimble fingers moving it up and down.

Prompto looked like he wanted to jump off the train to escape the misery which had befallen their group, while Ignis just looked tired.

Ignis took in a breath to speak. Noctis stood up suddenly.

“I need some air,” he muttered.

Ignis let out a soft sigh. Prompto watched Noctis walk away, a frown marring his face.

“Are we gonna be okay?” Prompto asked softly, eyes turning to the passing scenery.

“Beg your pardon?” Ignis asked, pulled from his own internal thoughts.

“I mean, with everything in Altissia, your eyes, Lunafreya, Ardyn. We’re not going to be the same, are we?”

Ignis was quiet a moment.

“Each moment we are different than the moment before. If you mean that you think this will break us, then I believe that there is more hope than you think. We are more than just this moment.”

Ignis sounded so sure, so absolute in his belief. Prompto’s lips quirked in a small, weak, yet genuine smile.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Prompto said.

“No guessing Prompto, we’ve too far to go for that,” Ignis murmured.

Prompto nodded his head. He sat for a few minutes, contemplating. Side glancing at Ignis, Prompto fidgeted a little in his seat. Another minute passed and he kept fidgeting.

“You can go Prompto, I may be handicap now but I am not totally invalid. I’m sure I can manage sitting here just fine.”

“I-” Prompto’s mouth gaped, and opened and shut like a fish.

He let out a small snort of incredulity.

“How did you know?” Prompto asked, totally baffled.

“As I said, I am not totally invalid,” Ignis replied.

Prompto flushed, stood up and turned to go before looking back at Ignis. Ignis was staring straight ahead, both hands poised atop his cane. Prompto’s face squished up and he danced between his feet before finally heading in the direction Noctis had disappeared to.

Ignis let out a soft sigh.

  
  
  


 

 

Noctis was trying, he was, really. He knew he was a brat, that he’d been raised in absolute wealth with people at his beck and call, and made to answer to his whim. He knew that he’d been coddled into his current position, that even as he worked to restore his kingdom, his friends and people were sacrificing everything. He knew he was a coward because every time he thought of his destiny, of gaining the rest of the Gods’ favor and his ancestors’ weapons he was terrified. Gladio was right, he almost always was.

Noctis even knew that he was selfish, he always had been, demanding his father’s time, being lazy and flippant about a future so many lives were dependent on, grieving when Ignis, Prompto, Gladio, Iris, Talcott and so many more had pushed on instead of grieving.

The problem was that Noctis wasn’t as good as them, he was weaker, a coward, he was trying to push past his grief, push past the horrible guilt which weighed on him, and he couldn’t. The Ring of the Lucii lay in his pocket, a mantle he was terrified to take on, and he knew he was so very selfish to not put it on.

So as Ignis opened his mouth, preparing to say something kind and placating, Noctis had realized he couldn’t hear it, he didn’t deserve to hear it. Maybe Gladio’s words cut him deeply, but at least they were the truth, at least they weren’t excuses.

Noctis fought back tears that were welling up, shoving them down and under. He glanced about to see that he was nearly past the passenger cars. The next car was for cargo and storage. Noctis saw that a couple were eyeing him, a smattering of conversation drifting through the car, a little boy talking excitedly about something out his window. Noctis needed quiet, and space.

Moving forward, Noctis headed for the storage car. It was cool, the lights off and sparse sunlight filtering in through the windows. Noctis felt the reprieve of silence and isolation wash over him and he settled on someone’s large suitcase.

“Well, well, well, pouting are we? Not very befitting of a King, now is it,” Ardyn let out an exaggerated ‘tut-tut’.

Noctis froze, anger and icy rage seeming to be injected into his veins. He threw himself to his feet and spun around. It was Ardyn, manner haughty and unconcerned as it always seemed to be. Noctis summoned a dagger from the armiger without a second thought and lunged forward. Ardyn sidestepped him and threw Noctis to the ground.

Noctis landed hard. There was a flash of pain throughout his body and Noctis found that he couldn’t stand up, body completely weak.

“Despite your, lack, in Kingly values you’ve proved to be a thorn in my side time and time again.”

Ardyn knelt beside Noctis, lips turned up in a condescending, smug little grin. Noctis wanted to scream at him and throttle the man, but his body didn’t respond, the pain returning and seeming to grow throughout every nerve and tendon in his body.

“I can’t have you making problems, but I can’t have you dead yet. The time will come, but in the meantime I need you occupied and not looking for those little toothpicks of your ancestors’ and gaining anymore favor from our dear Six.”

Noctis gasped, his lungs seeming to be folding in on themselves. The pain grew worse and overwhelmed him, black biting into his vision and overtaking it. Ardyn disappeared and pain was all Noctis knew until he fell into unconsciousness.

  
  
  
  


 

Prompto walked through all the passenger cars, twice, and Noctis wasn’t in any of them. That left the storage cars, something he didn’t really see Noctis going into. He was concerned though, and decided that checking couldn’t hurt. Opening the storage car door, Prompto peered about. It was dark, not ventilated as the other cars and therefore quite chilly. It caused Prompto’s mind to wander to darkness and the cheesy horror movies he’d forced Noctis to watch and which both of them were terrified of even if Noctis denied it.

“Noct?” Prompto hazarded.

There was no response. Then, Prompto heard it: breathing. Prompto shuddered, heart rate accelerating. This was the part in the movie where the main person sneaking around should turn tail and run, the part where they don’t and end up dying some terrible death from an unspeakable horror.

“It’s not a movie, it’s not a movie,” Prompto muttered under his breath, slowly edging his way towards the sound.

Something moved, Prompto could hear it, the shift of monster claws or zombie limbs.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, you’ll be fine,” Prompto said to himself, more frantic than before.

Turning the corner of a stack of luggage, Prompto prepared himself for the worst.

It was a child. They were surrounded by a small bunch of black clothing and they were pale with black hair. In fact, they looked uncannily similar to-. Prompto’s eyes went wide and he took a few quick short steps forward, crouching down. The boy was unconscious and the clothes were Noctis’.

“Noctis?” Prompto said, staring in amazement at the scene before him.

The boy stirred and blue eyes raised to peer in dazed confusion at Prompto.

“Prom?” The child’s voice was weak, a baby bird flutter of sound.

Prompto went pale, falling back on his butt.

“Oh shit! Noctis!? It’s really you!” Prompto said, looking his friend up and down with panicked wonderment.

“Prom, wha-” Noctis lifted himself from his position, arms trembling.

His mouth gaped a little, as if he were too breathless to speak and his brow pinched in confusion. He went even paler as he sat up and his eyes rolled back. He slumped against the ring of clothing unconscious.

Prompto sat there, absolutely stunned.

“Oh man, I gotta tell someone, I gotta-I gotta-” Prompto was trying to form a cohesive thought but nothing was happening.

Finally he shook his head, pushing it into his hands. He needed to think, for Noctis’ sake. Who would know what to do with this? Ignis. Ignis always knew what to do.

Prompto lifted his head and tentatively reached out for Noctis. He laid his hand on Noctis’ head but the boy didn’t stir. Finally, Prompto moved forward and shifted the clothing. Noctis was still wearing his shirt, but that was it and the thing practically left him swimming in material. Noctis was friggin’ tiny. Prompto wrapped Noctis up in the cast aside jacket and then he grabbed the remaining clothes and boots. Noctis was still unconscious. Prompto shifted the boy so he was draped across him, head resting in the crook of Prompto’s neck.

Prompto headed back toward their car. When he arrived he saw that Gladio had returned, looking as churlish as before. Ignis also looked less happy and Prompto had a feeling that the two had spoken.

“What the hell Prompto?” Gladio said, standing up as he took in Prompto carrying a child in his arms while carting around all of Noctis’ clothes.

“Uh,” Prompto grinned in a nervous tic.

“What is it?” Ignis asked, brow furrowed and his head turning in the direction of the noise.

“Whose kid is that?!” Gladio bowled over any response Prompto might have had.

“What’s happened?” Ignis asked, more urgently this time.

“Why are you carrying Noctis’ clothes around? Is that idiot making you cover for him again?!”

Prompto took a step back, feeling a little overwhelmed by Gladio’s intense barrage and Ignis’ added, though much more calm, approach. He barely realized Noctis was stirring until the boy’s head lifted and turned toward the noise.

Gladio was dead silent, his face pale and shocked. Ignis still was absolutely lost.

“Gladio? Is that you?” Noctis’ voice was still faint and weak, his limbs taking up a tremble again.

Ignis let out a gasp and was soon staring, though sort of in the wrong direction, at Noctis. Prompto let out a weak little chuckle that sounded more like a whimper. He’d seen this going differently, maybe better? Or worse? Or just different, one which involved him not being at the center of it all.

Noctis’ head wobbled and he turned to look at Prompto. His eyes were glazed over and Prompto suddenly realized that Noctis felt a lot warmer than he should.

“M’gonna barf, Prom,” Noctis said, sounding a strange mix between little child and twenty year old Noct announcing he was going to go to sleep before then practically collapsing: unconcerned and factual.

Noctis, to his credit, did try to lean away so he didn’t get Prompto in the line of fire, but the vomit still ended up splattered all over Prompto’s left arm and down his side and leg. Most of it landed on his left shoe.

“Gross,” Prompto said in a faint voice, keeping pace with a conversation he might have had if a twenty year old Noctis had puked all over him, except he was holding a toddler sized version of his best friend and trying to pretend like this wasn’t the weirdest shit he’d ever been a part of.

Noctis leaned his head back against Prompto’s shoulder, his breath stertorous against Prompto’s neck.

“Sorry,” Noctis whispered, sounding genuinely apologetic, pathetically so.

Prompto was at a loss for words.

“How tall is he?” Ignis asked.

Prompto stared in bewilderment at Ignis. Of all the questions a person could have, how did height factor in as important?

“Uh, I don’t know, laid on me his feet are ‘bout a little below hip level?” Prompto answered in a question, not sure if his estimation was even in the ballpark of being right.

Gladio was still standing there, staring.

“Four,” Ignis said after a moment of thought. “He must be four. He always was rather small for his age growing up. He’s ill, we should go to the bathroom and get him cleaned up.”

“I think I need to be cleaned up more than him,” Prompto replied, glancing down at the sick that now covered him.

Noctis bleated another soft ‘sorry’.

“Very well,” Ignis replied. “Gladio, take him, I’ll follow you to the bathroom and we’ll get him cleaned up there.”

Gladio finally seemed to snap out of his stupor. He gave a terse nod and stepped toward Noctis with a fierce glower on his face. Prompto hesitated to hand over Noctis, but he was covered in vomit and Noctis was sick.

Gladio roughly took Noctis, folding the boy over his arm. Prompto thought it looked super uncomfortable for Noctis, but it would probably keep Gladio from being vomited on. Noctis’ head rolled and he looked like a little rag doll in Gladio’s grasp.

Ignis put a hand out which Gladio grabbed and set on his arm. The trio then set out for the bathroom. Prompto sighed, setting Noctis’ somehow clean clothes (the little bastard had aimed, Prompto was sure of it) on the train seat before heading in the direction of the other bathroom.

  
  
  


 

 

Ignis was blind, and though he despised the utter lack of control in his world, the black void which was perpetually his vision, he had started to come to some sort of terms with it. It didn’t mean he was sure of his ability to stay with his Prince, his King, and he dreaded the day would come in which it would be better for them to set him to the side. Still, he had accepted this.

Now though, now he was very not okay with being blind. As far as he could gather Noctis was magically (he assumed) a four year old version of himself and Ignis had no ability to care for him.

The walk to the bathroom felt like a lifetime, Ignis fervently wishing he could see Noctis, feel him, make sure that the Prince was safe and sound. The only thing he could feel was the tightness of Gladio’s arm, the tension there betrayed by a slight tremor of fear. Gladio was a difficult man to reason with, and though he had no great difficulty taking in any faults he had, he was unable to accept them, he always rectified them. They were in a position now where mistakes, faults, even just damn fate with its idea of bloody tragedy, could not be rectified.

Gladio blamed himself more than he blamed Noctis, which was why the man felt he had to push the Prince so hard. He was doing the same to himself and worse. Of course it didn’t make it any easier to watch, or in this case hear, and it didn’t change the fact that this new ‘development’ was just another thing Gladio had little control over.

They arrived at the bathroom, Gladio pushing the door open and holding it open for Ignis. Ignis awkwardly stumbled inside after Gladio. It was a tight fit, but Ignis was able to reach Noctis and that was what mattered.

His fingers met with Noctis’ head, the crown of it where black hair fluttered like bird down, feathery and soft. The heat was felt through his gloves and Ignis knew Noctis was running a fever. His hand slipped down to come up against Noctis’ forehead. It was just as warm, but now tiny, cupped in his palm. Ignis remembered being seven years old and meeting the little five year old for the first time, his Prince. He’d memorized everything about the boy, studied a spreadsheet of facts from monthly weight/height to little drawings collected by the nursemaids from the absent boy’s hand. Even now the numbers and little facts stood in his mind as if branded by hot steel.

“Iggy?” Noctis whispered, his breaths short and strained.

“Right here,” Ignis murmured back.

Noctis let out a weak whimper and said nothing more.

Ignis raised his other hand and felt Noctis’ shoulders, frail little bones holding together a wisp of a child. There was no muscle, not as there had been on the twenty year old, this Noctis was terribly fragile. The implications hit Ignis hard and he knew that this wasn’t an accident, it was intentional and it was a hard blow. Noctis was rendered practically impotent and was extremely vulnerable.

Ignis felt Gladio’s arm when he went further and realized the man had folded the child over his arm.

“You’re putting pressure on his chest and sternum, it’s too much for his lungs, he’s not breathing properly.”

Ignis snapped it out, not meaning to, but the sudden fear and anger startled him. Why wasn’t Gladio being more careful with Noctis, especially when he was in this form? Gladio let out a grunt and adjusted Noctis, guiding the boy so he rested in the crook of Gladio’s arm, his head now resting against the man’s chest.

Ignis could immediately hear Noctis’ breathing become better.

“Who did this?” Gladio asked, voice low and rough.

Ignis shook his head, wishing he could see as he felt Noctis over for injury. There was nothing, but the boy’s scars were present, scars which did not exist on him when he was this age. Ignis had no idea what that boded for them. The large scar on his chest, what would have been fatal from the Leviathan’s attack and wasn’t because of Lady Lunafreya, was also still there, not as tough or old as the others and sickeningly large.

Noctis shifted.

“Ardyn,” the boy breathed out.

Ignis felt disgust and fear rise in him. Of course, Ardyn would be cruel and sick enough to do something like this. At least, Ignis thought, the man hadn’t killed Noctis.

“M’sorry,” Noctis said, voice hitching a little.

It was said to both of them. Ignis felt like cursing, as if Noctis was to be blamed for this happening? No one would have thought Ardyn had followed them onto the train, nor that he would accost Noctis in such a strange manner.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Ignis said briskly, moving back and realizing that there wasn’t much else he could do, he felt useless.

Gladio let out a soft ‘humph’ which Ignis read as disagreement. Ignis tapped down his ire. Now wasn’t the time to argue with Gladio about the difference between reality and what they all preferred. He also had no patience for the man’s guilt, nor Noctis’ for that matter. They just didn’t have time or the emotional capacity to bear the weight.

“We should return, make sure we have water and the correct medical supplements. We should get off as soon as possible, I don’t doubt there are some who know of our destination and it would be best that we don’t let them meet us like this. If his fever grows worse, we’ll need to consult a doctor.”

Gladio let out another grunt. Ignis waited for Gladio. Gladio grabbed Ignis’ hand and set it on his arm, pushing the bathroom door open so they could leave.

  
  
  
  


 

The three began their walk back down the train compartment, Gladio cradling Noctis in one arm and guiding Ignis in the other. The men were dressed in their casual wear in order to avoid attracting unwanted attention. 

“Oh, the poor dear!” A woman, middle aged and with hair tied back in a braid had been passing by and upon seeing Noctis had stopped to pity him.

She looked up to Gladio and her eyes passed over him and his companion.

“What happened to the little thing?” She asked, looking at Gladio and immediately dismissing his blind companion.

“He’s sick, got it all over his outfit and I don’t have anything to change him into,” Gladio said.

The man was a better actor than anyone would anticipate, his tone betraying anxiety and earnestness.

“I bet his mama is all in a tizzy over it, she must be lucky to have a husband like you though,” the woman flashed Gladio a flirty smile.

Gladio kept on acting.

“I lost my wife when he was just a baby,” Gladio replied.

What tragic charm, it worked perfectly and the woman let out a sympathetic sound.

“You poor things,” she commiserated.

“Yeah, my sister’s brother and I are trying to get to a family reunion, make sure that he gets to see his grandparents at least once.”

The woman’s eyes fell to Ignis and she let out another pathetic sound of sympathy. Ignis tightened his hand on Gladio’s forearm.

“Yes, and we must be well rested,” Ignis imparted, his prompt for them to get moving heard loud and clear.

“Of course, of course, bless his heart he’s right, y’all should be going,” the woman tittered. “Y’know though, I have a spare set of clothes, just his size, my little Ishmaela is such a messy kid, I always have a couple extra sets. I could bring ‘em by for y’all.”

“That’d be wonderful,” Ignis answered, hand pushing a little.

Gladio took the hint and they continued on their way.

“I guess we have our covers made,” Ignis said, a bit waspish at the undiscussed improv. “I suppose Prompto can be the orphaned bastard child of the rich recently deceased grandfather?”

Gladio chuckled and Ignis shook his head, wishing that less people saw them together with Noctis as a child. If anyone were to learn of the Prince’s condition, well, needless to say it would be a nightmare.

  
  
  
  


 

Noctis slept, even as the woman came by their compartment with the clothes. She asked question after question and only got vague answers, ironically they ended up using the joke of a story Ignis had snapped out in ill temper at Gladio. The woman had absolutely gushed over little orphan Prompto. It took Ignis’ and Gladio’s combined efforts to get her to leave.

By the time she left, Noctis had finally woken up. He still had a fever but it was lower than it had been earlier.

“We’ll be departing at the next stop, I believe the city’s name is Milcoup,” Ignis supplied conversationally.

Noctis blinked, before struggling to sit up on the seat between Ignis and Gladio.

“You should probably get dressed, champ,” Gladio drawled, tossing the clothing the woman had brought at Noctis.

Noctis stared owlishly at the little cornflower blue dress and white underwear, there was even a little white hair bow. All of them expected some sort of complaint. Noctis merely pulled on the underwear and shed his black shirt before struggling to undo the buttons at the back of the dress, his little fingers trembling.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Prompto said, practically flying off of his seat to take the dress from Noctis.

Prompto quickly undid the back buttons before approaching Noctis.

“Maybe I can help?” He asked, looking dubiously at Noctis.

Noctis gave a little nod. Prompto proceeded to wrangle the item onto Noctis. He finished and sat back in his own seat. Noctis sank back against the plush support of his seat looking exhausted.

“Jeez, Noct, I don’t mean to insult you or anything, but you look like a cute little girl,” Prompto said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

Noctis raised his friend a one finger salute before dropping his hand back onto the seat. Gladio let out a grudging snort of laughter at Noctis’ act.

“Behave,” Ignis intoned, assuming that something undignified was going on.

Noctis let out a little huff of breath, one which could be either annoyance or exhaustion. The moment turned into a warm one, reminiscent of when they had first started out on their journey, four young men in a car on a road going to somewhere and nowhere all at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

Milcoup was hot and humid, a little coastal town wedged at the base of an alluvial plain. It was known for its cotton exports, among other things. Ignis spat out these little tidbits of information, apparently gathered from a friendly conversation on the train. Even blind he was thorough in his information gathering.

All four stepped off of the train. Ignis had been carrying Noctis, Noctis still feeling ill, until Gladio had commented on the dangers of being blind and having your arms full. Noctis had shifted to the tall, muscled figure. His stay was short, Gladio entering an argument with an employee over the transfer of the Regalia. Gladio had handed him off to Prompto.

That’s where they were currently, Ignis and Gladio caught in hot debate with the employee and now the train conductor. Prompto sat on a bench with Noctis dozing beside him.

“Man, it’s hot!” Prompto exclaimed, glancing about the bustling platform.

Ignis’ voice raised sharply and there was an indignant huff from Gladio. Noctis didn’t reply to Prompto, already half asleep.

“You think they’ll be at it long?” Prompto asked.

Noctis let out a little grunt, it sounded less annoying, high pitched and issuing forth from the little lithe limbed figure he now was. The stupid bow had been wedged in his head by the well meaning woman when she had come by for a fourth time. Noctis thanked the six that she was headed for a town far past Milcoup.

“Yeah, ages, Ignis puts up a good fight though, and they’ve got Gladio in the mix,” Prompto said conversationally. “I hope it doesn’t end up like that time in Old Lestallum.”

Prompto shuddered. Sighing, Prompto squinted up at the sun, a hand drawn across his forehead. He looked about until his eyes landed on a small food vendor nearby.

“I’m gonna grab us something to drink, staying hydrated is important, right? Especially when you’re sick.”

Prompto was on his feet, headed toward the stand. Noctis said nothing, drowsy and nauseous, feeling strange sitting on a bench that several hours ago would have allowed his feet to touch the ground. A minute passed and he heard but didn’t register the sound of Gladio’s and Ignis’ voices trailing away, still firing in argument.

“Hey kiddo.”

The voice was foreign. Noctis blinked his eyes open to look up at a thin, middle aged, but handsome man. He was smiling.

“Terribly warm isn’t it?” The man said.

Noctis said nothing in return, suddenly feeling his position with a sense of dread. He stood just above eighty centimeters and weighed at tops thirty five pounds. He also felt sick.

Noctis tossed his head, looking around for Prompto or Gladio or Ignis. Prompto was at the food stand, back turned. Gladio and Ignis had disappeared.

“Yes, yes, I saw your caretaker. Getting an ice lolly for you I assume, too hot for a little girl like you to be going about.”

The man was smiling, then he settled back against the bench, the other end and a good distance away, with a newspaper in hand. Noctis kept a close eye on him, but the man seemed to have forgotten about him.

Prompto returned with two cones of shaved ice in hand.

“Hey, where’d they go?” Prompto asked, looking about with a startled expression.

Noctis pointed in the direction their friends had disappeared to, carefully beginning his assault on the cold treat in his hand. It helped him feel less feverish, and the nausea had lessened.

“Guess we follow, huh,” Prompto said, standing up and starting to walk in that direction.

Noctis hopped up and followed. He glanced back at the man, bothered to see the man’s gaze flit in their direction. Noctis trotted a little faster and snagged Prompto’s hand.

Prompto looked in surprise down at him.

They arrived at the end of the platform where Gladio and Ignis now stood with peeved expressions.

“So what’s up?” Prompto asked, eating his shaved ice cone.

“It seems the Regalia cannot just be transferred here. Paperwork has it headed onward so it shall continue onward,” Ignis said with frustration.

“They say it’ll head back here from the next station, apparently they don’t have the ‘authority’ to release it. Something about stupid documentation and inspections by the correct officials. All this damn bureaucracy is bullshit,” Gladio spat out.

The two disgruntled members of their party looked in the direction of the two munching away at their treat. Ignis frowned.

“Are you eating something?” He asked, trying to place the sound he was hearing.

“Uh, yeah,” Prompto answered, licking at his treat. “You have really good ears.”

“Is it healthy?” Ignis asked, narrowing his eyes.

Prompto looked sheepish. Gladio rolled his eyes and Noctis kept eating. Noctis was slowly feeling better. Ignis shook his head and muttered something none of them could hear.

“We should proceed to find somewhere to rest, now that the Regalia is temporarily indisposed our choices are limited.”

“We don’t have a lot of cash either,” Gladio chimed in.

“Don’t suppose they have some sort of hostel?” Prompto asked.

Gladio shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to look.”

Gladio surveyed their group and his eyes fell on Noctis who was just about finished with his shaved ice. They fell to Noctis’ little feet which were still bare and starting to get dirty. Without saying anything, he picked Noctis up and set him on one of his shoulders.

“Don’t complain, princess,” Gladio said roughly.

Noctis said nothing, acting like this was totally normal.

They proceeded to make their way through Milcoup. Unfortunately their search was pretty luckless, the town didn’t see many travelers so there were few accommodations. The train station was mainly for export of the cotton they grew.

Having exhausted the town, they decided to stop at what looked to be an economic little restaurant with a few shanties built next to it. It was right on the river. They stepped in, Noctis now asleep and cradled against Gladio. 

There were a few people seated at a sort of bar which was based at the barrier between the tiny kitchen and the rest of the square, ramshackle room. It smelled, the floor was dirt, and most of the furniture seemed to be made up of various pieces of garbage, mainly old shipping containers and a few tires. The four looked out of place.

A woman bustled up to them, wiping her hand on a towel.

“I’m Isabella Yeagre, though most folks call me Bell. What can I do for y’all?” The woman was friendly, a warm smile on her face.

“Yeagre? Like Sania Yeagre?” Prompto asked.

“Why yes!” She exclaimed. “Is Sania still hunting down creepy crawlies?”

She gave a stage shudder and went right back to smiling.

“She always was crawling in the dirt, just like her ma and pa though, so no surprise there.”

“Are you a relation?” Ignis asked.

“Cousin? Mom’s side I think? Or something like that,” the woman let out another laugh. “Anyway, the whole Yeagre family is from the Yazuh Delta here, we used to just work the land but now we own it.”

She started to lead them over to a table, still talking.

“Though it’s been tough of late, if I had my druthers those Imperials wouldn’t be in charge of nothin’. They come in here, demand our hard work and then think they can claim they deserve some sort of discount. If the creek don’t rise I reckon they’ll soon find that they can’t just suss whatever they want outta us.”

She seated them and bustled away with a promise of hot food and ‘something for the little one’.

“Sounds like even the provinces of Accordo have suffered from Imperial rule,” Ignis said.

Noctis was perched on Prompto’s lap now, the lack of space demanding it, and Gladio was seated next to Ignis.

“So, what the hell do we do now?” Gladio asked. “Noctis is pint sized and more useless than before. We have no money, and we’re supposed to find the Crystal before night takes over the entire world.”

The table became dead silent. Prompto stared to the side and Ignis folded his hands together.

“We find the Crystal,” Noctis said quietly.

Gladio’s half rage turned toward Noctis.

“How? You won’t even use the ring, so even if we do find the Crystal what the hell is it gonna do any good for, since you’re too much of a coward to even use it.”

“Maybe,” Ignis sharply intervened, “it would be wiser to focus on the more pressing matter of Noctis’ physical regression.”

The group fell silent as Isabella returned with a large communal bowl of some sort of stew. She set it down between them before turning to Noctis.

“Now, sweetheart, what’s your name?” She asked.

Noctis side glanced at Ignis and Gladio.

“Laelia,” Gladio answered in his behalf.

“Ain’t you the cutest,” Isabella cooed. “Shy thing though, huh?”

She pinched Noctis’ cheek and then patted his head.

“You boys new to town?” She asked.

“We are passing through,” Ignis replied.

“Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t stay too long, ever since that Imperial base was put up south down the river things have been all cattywumpus here. Some silly rock getting’ shipped up the river had everything shut down, I know a few farm owners who lost good money because of it, couldn’t get their produce shipments through.”

“Silly rock?” Prompto asked.

All four were paying very close attention.

“Yeah, somethun’ that the Imperials took from Insomnia, I swear, the more I hear the worse it seems to be out in the world. Daemons killing, Imperials taking everything good, the days getting oddly short. Those soldiers though are what give me the spine shivers.”

“How long ago was this rock moved?” Ignis asked.

“‘Bout a couple weeks ago, Darrell was in here telling about it, he lost a whole crop of soybeans because the river got blocked off. Y’all sticking around for a little while?”

Isabella seemed happy to spend her time chatting with them.

“Probably, we’ve had a few problems with the train,” Gladio replied.

“And not much gil,” Isabella guessed with a knowing look, her eyes glancing toward Noctis’ shoeless state and their rumpled clothes.

“Unfortunately,” Ignis replied.

“That’s alright, we’ve had a lot of refugees come through here from Altissia.”

The atmosphere became exceedingly somber and everyone was silent.

“Well, feel free to stay with me and my husband Jerome, we got a bit of extra space and the Six know that there’s always room for more.”

“Oh, we couldn’t impose,” Ignis countered.

“Nonsense, I’d sleep better knowing your little one has a safe roof to sleep under.”

“You’re too kind, ma’am,” Gladio said.

“Shucks, it ain’t nothing,” Isabella said. “You just knock on our door and we’ll get you set up whenever you need it. I’ll leave y’all alone for now though, I actually gotta cook once in a while!”

Isabella walked away with a smile and laugh.

“That was sure nice of her,” Prompto said.

“It was,” Ignis said. “What do you make of her story about the ‘rock’?”

Gladio shrugged. “It’s the first lead we’ve gotten on the Crystal.”

“Noctis, what are your thoughts?” Ignis asked.

“We should check it out,” Noctis said.

The group decided on checking the town out after talking to Isabella again. She said they could get a ferry some ways up the river that would drop them off about a mile away from the Imperial base. She said she hadn’t seen it, but that a quite a few guys had been up that way to transport materials for it to be built. She gave them a few names and places to look.

They headed out after finishing the meal, given again for free by Isabella.

Milcoup wasn’t particularly large compared to some of the cities they’d passed through. It was a quaint little place, the main street set from east to west and going right across the river. It was lined with little varicose colored two story buildings which were pushed up against each other. Each was done up in whimsy, one with pink railings and strawberry green walls, the next trimmed in red, walls a bright yellow and with a sky blue door. All fell in this order. They headed for the port area, where river barges docked and picked up goods.

According to Isabella a lot of refugees had ended up here. It showed. Passing by certain areas they saw shanties built from cast off materials stacked in groups, barefoot children scampering around with adults trying to pull together a living. Milcoup was packed, and though it made navigating the streets uncomfortable, it made their presence unnoticeable.

Noctis ended up walking, Prompto holding his hand. Gladio meanwhile guided Ignis with the man’s hand resting on his forearm. They reached the port area, the crowds of women and children being replaced with working men or men looking for work.

“It’d be better if we split up,” Gladio suggested, nodding toward Prompto.

“Yes, though I hate to be apart when Noctis is like this,” Ignis said.

Gladio opened his mouth, a look of contempt and annoyance on his face. Noctis beat him to it.

“I’ll be fine. Prom and I can manage fine. The sooner we get this done, the closer we are to finding the Crystal.”

“Damn straight,” Gladio bit out, still getting out his ire.

Ignis let out a huff but acquiesced with a nod of his head. The four became pairs of two.

  
  
  
  


 

Noctis and Prompto headed east across the bridge, combing one side of the port. Their inquiries didn’t get them far, a lot of the men eyeing Prompto and Noctis with a bit of confusion and wariness. It was frustrating and tiring. At some point Prompto dropped Noctis’ hand, both of them sweaty and tired. 

Time seemed to slip by without any progress being made. They would approach one man, he would turn away or say something to the meaning of scat, and they’d be turned away. Either that or they would immediately refuse their services. No refugees on their boats going up the river.

“I hope Gladio and Ignis are having an easier time,” Prompto said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

Noctis gave a nod, exhausted and finding that his current body did not hold up nearly as well as his adult one. His feet hurt, he felt exhausted, and though his sickness had passed he felt lightheaded from the heat.

Prompto engaged with another person and Noctis turned his head toward the river. It was sparkling like fish scales from the sunlight, a light breeze and its slow currents keeping it from being flat and peaceful. A few birds were floating on its surface. Noctis blinked languidly, he didn’t feel so good.

Turning, he reached a hand out, expecting Prompto to be there. He didn’t see his friend though. That wasn’t good. Taking a few faltering steps forward, Noctis looked around. There was no Prompto though, just a sea of tall strangers bustling by him. Noctis started to worry, glancing down at his bare feet and the blue dress he was wearing. He was in no condition to be by himself.

Maybe he could get a vantage point by climbing up somewhere and looking out onto the crowd. At the least it would help with the dizzying sensation of claustrophobia that was overwhelming him. Noctis set out, trying and struggling to squirm his way through the crowd. One passerby knocked into him and he fell onto his knees. He rolled to avoid the foot of one man and then, as he was about to be trampled, a hand grasped him and lifted him out of the sea of legs and feet.

“Are you alright darling?”

Noctis blinked, looking at the man he’d met this morning at the station. The man had swept him into his arms and was now cradling him. Noctis began squirming, not feeling comfortable at all with this stranger.

“Put me down,” Noctis demanded.

“Now now peach, don’t make a scene,” the man said kindly, though his grip shifted to hold Noctis’ kicking feet into place.

Noctis began to panic, not liking the way he was being held and feeling helpless.

“Put me down!” Noctis said a little louder, one hand flailing out while the other dug into the man’s skin.

“Hush now,” the man said, grip unrelenting.

Noctis was being forced against the man’s chest, little arms pinned and his legs held down. Whatever this man wanted it wasn’t any good. Noctis felt terror fill him. Where was Prompto? Where was Gladio and Ignis? Noctis screamed, lungs squeezing out air as much and as loud as they could. The man shoved Noctis’ face into his shoulder, his scream dampened.

Noctis struggled, kicking and putting up as much fight as he could. The armiger came to mind and he nearly summoned his engine blade. With barely any thought though he summoned a dagger. It appeared in his hand pointing outwards, digging into the man’s side. The man let out a pained gasp and dropped Noctis.

Noctis dropped and rolled, springing to his feet and setting out at a dead run. He ducked and dodged between legs, his heart thumping and blood pounding in his ears. He thought for a moment that he’d lost the man when he felt a hand around his arm.

Noctis screamed again, yelling his friends’ names in succession. He summoned another dagger and lashed out. His wrist was caught and the man squeezed. Noctis let out a cry of pain, the dagger shattering. The man let go, thinking that Noctis was done fighting. Noctis however had summoned another dagger in his other hand. He drove this one into the man’s thigh.

The man backhanded him hard, sending him tumbling to the ground. Noctis’ vision went black and he felt spacey, brain spinning. A rough hand was on his arm again, but just as soon as it was there it was gone. Someone was yelling, voice a terrifying angry timber. Noctis recognized it as Gladio.

Hands were on him then, rough but not harmful. Noctis felt himself set against someone’s shoulder and he let his eyes close, the throbbing in his head slowly easing away.

Noctis heard the chattering of the port die away. After a few minutes whoever was carrying him came to a stop. Noctis opened his eyes and realized it was Gladio’s shoulder and chest he was held against. He was set down and Gladio was then kneeling, amber eyes dark with anger and worry. Hands carefully felt him over for injury, lingering at the bruised area on Noctis’ cheek.

Ignis was there, standing just by Gladio looking extremely worried and keeping his mouth shut despite looking like he wanted to be asking a million questions.

“You alright?” Gladio asked after finishing his inspection.

Noctis nodded dumbly, still feeling a little shaky after the encounter.

“Good. He’s okay Ignis,” Gladio said.

“What the hell were you doing?” Gladio demanded, looking pissed.

Noctis felt indignation well up. He’d just been trying to do what they’d set out to do, he’d been feeling ill, he hadn’t meant to get separated from Prompto.

“I got separated from Prompto,” Noctis explained.

“I figured that out,” Gladio said with an angry snort. “I thought that by now you’d start being at least a little responsible! You’re as vulnerable as you’ve ever been and you’re taking stupid risks! We can’t afford to lose you, you need to stop being selfish and take this shit seriously.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Noctis said quietly in response, feeling guilty.

That seemed to make Gladio even more mad. The man just stood up, jaw clenched and looking like he wanted to punch something.

“You never mean to, do you? But you always screw stuff up,” Gladio bit out.

Noctis grit his teeth, feeling simultaneously angry and ashamed. He said nothing, turning his eyes to the ground. He was trying, he truly was. At this point though it felt like his best wasn’t worth anything. Gladio was right though, so far he’d managed to screw up almost everything he was supposed to be doing.

“We should find Prompto,” Ignis intervened, reaching out blindly for Gladio’s forearm.

He made contact with Gladio’s shoulder and then lightly ran his hand down to his forearm. He put a hand out for Noctis. Noctis took a few steps forward and gripped Ignis’ hand. Ignis squeezed reassuringly.

Gladio however stepped forward and picked Noctis up, holding him against him with one arm.

“Don’t want you getting into anymore trouble,” it sounded annoyed and angry, the intense worry tucked away and masked.

Noctis turned his gaze away, feeling shame and frustration prickle at him. Gladio was gentle in his hold. Ignis pulled out his phone and fumbled with it a moment before falteringly bringing up the contacts and managing to get to Prompto’s. He’d been practicing and was now able to bring up Gladio’s, Noctis’ and Prompto’s phone numbers. He was working on learning how to text, but so far all he could manage was calling.

Prompto answered right away and it was quickly determined that they were to meet at a certain area of the port, Ignis and Gladio having had much more success with finding a way up river.

Heading that direction, the trio set out. Noctis didn’t mean to, but he fell asleep, the heat and his head hurting, along with Gladio’s rhythmic gait, doing him in.

  
  
  
  


 

“You were a little harsh,” Ignis said, glancing over at Gladio as they made their way back.

They’d met at the area of the port, Prompto in a state of panic and claiming that he’d left Noctis because he’d seen a cat and profusely apologizing. Gladio had quietly reprimanded him, not yelling because of Noctis’ sleep. They’d spoken with the boatman and agreed to meet in the morning to head out for the Imperial base.

Now they were walking back to Isabella’s.

“He could’ve died, or worse,” Gladio said back, completely unapologetic. “He doesn’t seem to get how fucking serious this all is.”

Prompto was walking ahead, his camera out. Ignis’ lips pursed and he was silent a moment.

“He understands a lot more than you give him credit for,” Ignis countered.

“Then why isn’t he taking his duty seriously? The world is depending on us and he can’t even accept the responsibility of being a king let alone being responsible for the world,” Gladio said in frustration.

“He does, you just don’t see it. You and him are different Gladio, forcing him into his destiny isn’t going to help him. Noctis will do what needs to be done when the time comes, you need to be patient.”

“We don’t have time to be patient,” Gladio retorted, sounding more grave than angry for once.

Ignis said nothing in response, Prompto having fallen back to walk with them. They returned to Isabella’s and she cooed over the sleeping Noctis before showing them to a little shanty. She made up a couple cots for them and left them some bread and cold cured meat.

Noctis woke up, cheeks flushed and hair mussed. Gladio had laid him down on one of the cots and carefully covered him with a blanket.

“What happened?” He asked.

“We were hoping you would answer that for us,” Ignis replied as he carefully, and with much feeling out with his hands, began cutting the bread.

“There was this guy, I saw him this morning, but,” Noctis shook his head, frowning.

Gladio looked fiercely angry.

“You mean that bastard has been following us since this morning? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I mean, I didn’t think anything of it, it was just this morning,” Noctis replied, shoulders hunching a little, it seemed like Gladio was always on him about something, especially things he couldn’t control.

“Of course you didn’t,” Gladio said in a huff.

“What happened next?” Ignis asked, getting them back on track.

“He grabbed me, he wouldn’t let go, I think he, I don’t know, wanted me for something.”

Noctis shuddered, hands wrapping around his arms in a self-hug.

“I summoned the daggers,” Noctis explained.

“Yes, we felt that,” Ignis added.

“I almost got away but he caught up. I stabbed him and he hit me.”

Gladio’s shoulders tightened with anger and he looked like he wanted to snap something.

“I wish I’d beat his face in,” Gladio said.

Noctis shrugged, hoping to forget what had happened.

“I’m sorry man, I should’ve been keeping a better eye on you,” Prompto apologized.

Noctis shrugged again and got up from the cot, going over to the bread to snag a piece.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Ignis said softly.

The group fell into silence. After a little while, Gladio left claiming he was going to round up a few supplies for their trip tomorrow, he dragged Prompto with him. When they left, Ignis got up from the makeshift stool he was seated on and made his way over to the cot where he’d heard Noctis go. Noctis grabbed his hand and helped him sit down.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Ignis asked, fingers seeking Noctis out.

“Yeah, just a little bruise,” Noctis said, allowing Ignis to do his own check up.

Ignis looked torn up by that and brushed a gentle finger over Noctis’ cheek bone.

“How long do you think I’ll be like this?” Noctis asked, looking down at his small body and hating the frailty and vulnerability he now embodied.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen nor heard of magic quite like this,” Ignis replied. “I was hoping you would have some idea of how to counter it.”

“No, I’ve been trying to reach out to Gentiana but she’s just not there. None of the six have been responding to me. They’re there, but at the same time they’re not,” Noctis said with a sigh.

“The ring of the Lucii may hold answers,” Ignis said hesitantly.

Noctis gave a small nod.

“Maybe, but…” Noctis trailed off.

“You’ve convened with the doctor?” Ignis asked.

Noctis nodded his head and then realized that Ignis couldn’t see him.

“She says it’s healing, but not as fast. If I use the ring she said it might ruin whatever progress my body’s made.”

“So it’s the same as before,” Ignis said with a sigh. “Why haven’t you told Gladio or Prompto? Gladio would be more understanding, especially if he knew the reasons you don’t wield the Ring yet are creditable.”

Noctis said nothing, eyes growing wide and his arms once again circling himself. He wanted to say that he was afraid of Gladio demanding he put on the Ring, of his friend not caring. Sometimes he wondered if Gladio put so much into him because he expected Noctis to sacrifice everything, to be ready to give his life over. There was the fear that Gladio only protected him out of duty, that he stuck fast to his side to merely ensure Noctis did his duty, all camaraderie and affection merely imagined by Noctis.

He knew Gladio was willing, that his friend was braver and truer than he was, more willing to give everything to the world. Noctis knew he was terrified and he feared telling his friend because he was sure Gladio would hold him in contempt for being lesser. He didn’t want to be the weight around any of his friends’ necks.

“Come, we should rest, tomorrow I am sure will be fraught enough without exhaustion to add to it.”

Noctis gave a little nod and laid down.


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived at the dock early in the morning, a lot less activity on the streets making it easier to navigate. The boatman giving them the ride up the river eyed Noctis with some trepidation but said nothing. No words were exchanged during the boat ride, the old fashioned motor humming away as they set off up river.

Prompto and Noctis sat at the side, Noctis hanging his feet over the side with his friend. They didn't really talk, Prompto making comments here and there while taking photos with his camera. Gladio sat next to Ignis in the middle, quietly murmuring about the surroundings and talking to Ignis about what everyone else was seeing. The river was wide and calm, vegetation creeping along the shores. They were currently surrounded by a cypress forest, the trees' veined trunks linear and rising up. Soon though they left the forest and entered a plain of silt deposit, the river wound through it and from where they first emerged around a bend, the hulking base of the Imperials could be seen.

The approached, coming up the river which narrowed. Fields spread out before them, green spreading across the patches of land that were arable. The man finally set them down right by the shore where a grove of silver maples had been all but hacked away. A path was set and a large, cement dock constructed.

The boatman muttered something about the Imperials but didn't address any of the group. He set them down and accepted the gil. He said he'd be back every day at noon for the next week. Each day they didn't show would be an extra fifty gil.

It was agreed upon and the group of four was soon left behind by the boatman.

"Well, guess we'd better see where the road goes," Noctis said, turning to look down it.

Noctis was now wearing an altered shirt, one of his spare black ones, and a pair of black shorts, both thanks to Ignis. Instead of being barefoot he had on a pair of old sneakers supplied by Isabella. She'd been amused upon finding out that Noctis was actually a boy. Before they'd set out, Gladio had knelt and with a solemn and harsh gaze had placed the Ring of the Lucii in Noctis' palm.

No one said anything in response to Noctis' declaration, instead all setting out down the road. It curved through the continuing grove of silver maples until finally coming out on a piece of land jutting out onto the delta. The base rose up, a large field outside the main gate occupied by a fleet of various aircraft.

Prompto whistled. "That's a lot of magitek dropships."

Ignis frowned.

"It smells like smoke and," he stopped short, seeming to be searching for a word.

"They have a factory, at least that's what it looks like," Gladio supplied.

Ignis let out a thoughtful 'hmm'. "It must be a base for manufacturing and distribution, isolated enough to let them operate without interruption but placed near the delta so shipment is precipitated."

They continued forward. There were no guards along the road, and for the most part the base seemed to have very little security. When they finally got to the first guard tower they discovered it empty. They convened.

"We're in no position to fight, or for that matter really sabotage anything. Our sole purpose is to locate the crystal and secure it if possible. Discretion of the highest kind is best advised."

"So we sneak in? How?" Gladio asked.

Ignis frowned, thinking.

"The security seems far from strict, I believe if we proceed with caution and patience we'll be able to move about the base without detection. Can you warp at all, Noctis?" Ignis asked.

Noctis summoned a dagger. He stepped back and threw it up, aiming for the stairs, his strength was diminished and his expectations of old muscle, height, and power causing him to aim improperly. He warped before watching where his dagger went. He appeared midair, several feet below his intended destination and entered free fall. Prompto jerked forward to catch him, along with Gladio. But Noctis, though a little unbalanced, gracefully summoned a dagger and threw it to the ground, warping after it.

He landed, panting and having worked up a sweat just from that little bit of exertion. His head was ringing, his body's endurance and magical capacities greatly decreased. It was frustrating to feel that he was already close to stasis just from that little activity.

"Sort of," he said in reply to Ignis' earlier question.

"That's not happening again," Gladio snorted, looking both angry and very worried. "What he means is he can't warp."

Ignis gave a little nod and Noctis glared to the side, fists clenching. He kept his mouth shut though.

"Very well, I'm not sure how much good it would do us anyway," Ignis said. "Let's proceed. Prompto, you lead, you're lighter on your feet. Noctis I want you right behind Prompto. Gladio will guide me. Unfortunately I can't exactly give you insight about where would be best to enter, but I imagine waste disposal would be wise, if production is the primary function of the base then that will be an important and easily accessible area."

The three nodded, Gladio giving out a grunt so Ignis could hear their agreement. They circled the base, quickly and easily finding the area where garbage and other waste was dumped. Most went into the river, but larger items were set to the side. The area was open and looked to be frequently used. They entered easily, sneaking past the few MTs they saw with ease. When they were situated in the base, hidden behind a large collection of oil drums, they crouched down again.

"So where will we find the Crystal?" asked Prompto, glancing about nervously.

"I haven't a clue," Ignis replied. "They may keep it in storage with other items, or in a basement level area for greater protection."

"So we split up?" Gladio guessed.

Ignis didn't look pleased with that suggestion. "No, we continue together."

So they continued. They managed to get through the courtyard, an area where a lot of shipments were being processed and organized. They were starting to head toward the factory when Prompto, carefully ducking in front of them around a corner, having looked first, ducked back with a look of panic on his face.

"They saw me, you guys go, they don't know you're here, I'll lead them away."

Prompto was sprinting off, crouched low. There was the sound of the MTs' metallic movements. Gladio seized Ignis by the arm and grabbed Noctis up by the waist, he bustled them roughly behind some stairs and then boosted them up into some cement construction tubes, ones backed on one side by stacks of large shipping containers. He then hauled himself up into the wide, four foot diameter opening. Ignis scooted back a far way, Noctis and Gladio following.

They held their breath, waiting. There was the sound of MTs moving about and then a moment later gunfire. Noctis let out a soft gasp, clapping a hand over his mouth. The sound outside the tube was strange, the MTs never communicating with words, so the only way to hear what was going on was by their metallic movements and the sound of their weapons. The gunfire stopped almost as soon as it started.

After a few minutes, the intensity of the sound of the moving MTs died down. Gladio scooched forward and peered out. Ignis and Noctis, wrapped in the dark confines of the cement tube, heard him cuss before coming back.

"The MTs are swarming the yard, we need to find another way out of here."

"What about the Crystal?" asked Noctis.

Gladio shook his head. "We can come back for the Crystal another time. It's no good looking around while the entire base is filled with MTs looking for intruders."

Noctis nodded reluctantly. All three, Noctis gripping Ignis' hand to guide him, edged to the opening of the cement tube. Gladio glanced out before jumping out. His arms came up and he helped Noctis down and then Ignis. Grabbing Ignis' arm, Gladio began guiding him toward stairs, Noctis following close behind. They made their way up and started to head toward the entrance of the base. Gladio, spotting a group of MTs making rounds on the platform, seized Ignis and dragged him toward a door. They disappeared inside.

It was a chrome hallway, brightly lit by synthetic lighting.

"This was a stupid idea," grumbled Gladio, shaking his head while looking back in fury and untapered worry at the blind Ignis and the child Noctis.

Ignis and Noctis said nothing in return, Ignis focusing on walking without tripping and Noctis trying to keep up. They made their way down the hallway until they came to doors, they slid open at their approach and lead into a large, but empty room. It looked like a communications room, a board pinned with paper, and various stools seated in front of complex machines. Noctis, frowning, started to look around. He approached one of the machines and saw it was a computer. It looked workable and he tried what he thought was a sort of mouse.

It worked. Noctis opened a file labeled custom itinerary. It was a shipment table, mainly filled with things such as raw materials and product. Something caught his eye.

"Gladio," he called, "Ignis, come look at this."

The two came over.

"What's it say?" asked Ignis.

"Lucis, Crystal, date received 03/06/756," read Noctis.

His eyes sorted through lines, finally coming to the next one which mattered. What it read made his heart fall.

"Lucis, Crystal, date shipped 20/06/756," said Gladio, voice heavy and, as it seemed to perpetually be now, angry. "We missed it by one day."

None of them said anything, the devastation of the news weighing on them. A door opened. The sound had all three of them turning. It was a squad of MTs. Gladio cussed, wrenching on Ignis' arm and rushing toward the nearest door, Noctis sprinted after.

Gunshots rang out behind them. They came out on the end of another hallway, a series of doors lining it. None of them had handles, merely panels requiring a key code to pass through. Gladio sprinted forward, Ignis barely managing to keep up and Noctis, small body not as capable as his adult one, quickly falling behind. Gladio was already to the end of the hallway, the door opening up into the sunlight, when he heard Noctis' desperate call.

The boy was in the middle of the hallway, having summoned a shield in an attempt to protect himself from the hail of bullets being fired his way. Gladio summoned his own shield, sprinting in Noctis' direction. He scooped him up and clutched him to his chest to act as a body shield. He stumbled just a little as a bullet grazed his calf. Ignis was prepared for him and they launched through the doorway.

They were up on the high platforms which jutted out from the square walled inner of the base. Gladio nearly tossed Ignis down a level of the platform, jumping after him with Noctis in his arms. Not missing a beat, he began running again, shoving a surprised MT hard enough to send it flying off over the safety railing. They came to the end of the platforms, now close to the eastern corner of the base near the entrance they'd sneaked in through.

Gladio rushed down the stairs, barely catching Ignis as the man tripped and fell. They continued their flight, almost to the exit. That was when a battery of MTs arrived, the heavy gunfire causing them to stop and duck behind a two tiered stack of shipping containers. The bullets pinged off of the metal in a hail of tinny ringing.

"What's the plan?" asked Noctis, daggers already summoned and in his hands.

"Don't die," Gladio grit out.

"One of our better ones," said Ignis sarcastically.

MTs began daring to come around the corner of the shipping containers and Noctis threw his daggers, aim still slightly off. One slammed into one of the MTs shoulders and the other into the other MTs chest.

One went down but the other kept coming, gun still firing. Gladio charged forward, ducking down before summoning his great sword and slamming it through the MT. The immediate threat was eliminated, but more MTs were coming and Gladio had to duck back as the gunfire turned on him.

Wave after wave of MTs came, increasing as they found their numbers ineffective. Noctis replaced the daggers with a gun and stayed back by Ignis taking potshots while Gladio tried to keep the more resilient MTs from advancing further.

Another wave came, this one with more MTs than before. Gladio threw himself in the middle, attempting to keep them from getting to Noctis and Ignis. Noctis exchanged his gun for his daggers again, worried about hitting Gladio. One of the axemen got in a hit, its weapon slamming into Gladio's shoulder. There was a cry of pain from the man and he sunk to one knee, great sword disappearing in a crackle of magic.

"Gladio!" Noctis cried.

The MT was about to bring his axe down again when Noctis rushed forward, one dagger thrown. It felled the one MT, but more were coming.

 

 

 

 

 

Prompto ran for his life, dodging and ducking, twisting his lithe, thin body through the maze of metal, all in an attempt to avoid his pursuers. He went through the nearest door and kept running, the sound of MTs right behind him urging him on. He went deeper and deeper into the Imperial base, barely paying attention to where he was going. Finally, he came to a stop, panting from his continued sprint.

Once he got his breath back, he straightened, squinting his eyes as he took in his surroundings. He was in a lab of some sort, or a workshop maybe. There were tables lined with machinery that looked half assembled. Stepping toward one he saw a half completed MT mask and picked it up. Some point of whimsy caused him to raise it up to his face. It fit perfectly, the contours of the nose and cheeks lining up with his own, the width of the eyes seemingly made just for him. Looking out onto a red tinted world Prompto felt a sense of unease. He jerked the mask away and laid it on the table.

Approaching another table, the Crystal they were searching for in mind, he picked up a clipboard. It was a report. There was a code dashed at the top, one eerily similar to the one on his wrist. Prompto started to read. For the most part it seemed like gibberish, but what he did get was that it was talking about a physical performance report. But for what?

Prompto looked about, but there were only a couple more reports and then a computer which was off. He tried turning it on, but found that it required a key to access the power. He moved toward the next room. The doors slid open for him and he stepped into a narrow room lined with large glass cylinders. In each one a body floated, naked pale men curled in fetal positions with tubes and wires attached to them.

They floated suspended in the liquid. He frowned, taking a step closer. The first one looked exactly like him. He turned to the next one. It looked exactly like him. He was starting to get freaked out. Peering closer he saw a bar code printed on its wrist. He drew up his own wrist, staring at the identical mark.

"No, Prom, come on," he breathed, starting to feel like the walls were pushing in on him.

He moved quickly through the room, trying to desperately not look at the men floating in the glass tanks. The next room was another one similar to the first. All of the computers were locked like the previous one and no reports were spread on the table. Prompto sank into one of the chairs, trying to understand exactly what was going on.

He'd always known he'd been different, weird, not like other people. His strange tattoo, something he remembered as always having had demarcated him, separated him from everyone else. At first it had just seemed like a stupid mark, stubbornly there and though mysterious, not nearly this portentous.

Noctis had sort of made him feel wanted, included. A prince had taken the time to be his friend! And then Ignis and Gladio had accepted him as their friend. He'd been wanted. It didn't take away his constant fear of rejection, or of being cast out, but it had been better than being alone.

Now it turned out he was something created solely to destroy the very people he called friends. Prompto felt like his whole world had been put upside down. What would Noctis say? What would Gladio and Ignis? He was basically the enemy now. Fear so sharp and horrible struck him that Prompto found himself bent over and vomiting on the floor before he could help himself.

Straightening he placed a hand against his head. Would they kill him? Torture him? Beat him and then leave him?

A small noise grabbed his attention and Prompto jerked. He couldn't stay here, he needed to leave. Getting to his feet, he launched himself from the room, racing in a half jog/walk away from the horrible evidence of his origins.

Somehow, his feet guiding him, he made it back outside. He could hear the sounds of gunfire. Fear gripped him, not for himself but for his friends. On instinct he began to head in the direction of the sound of fighting, jogging along the platform. The lack of MTs only made him more worried.

Coming up to the eastern corner he saw them, pinned down behind some shipping containers, a huge mass of MTs bearing down in coordinated waves. He felt sick. These were his friends. But were they, really? He was born and made to be a soldier, to kill them. They would kill him if they knew.

He watched Gladio fall to his knees, crying out in pain. Noctis, so small and fragile, ran to his aid, taking out one MT but struggling as another three took its place.

Prompto felt something settle, his mind resigning itself. It didn't matter what they would do to him, his origin didn't matter, who he was born to be, what mattered was that his friends were down there, about to die and he couldn't let that happen.

Drawing his gun, he entered the fray.

 

 

 

 

 

Noctis was sweating, hands trembling as he fired another shot. The MT barely flinched, still continuing its stalwart approach. Gladio was trying to summon his sword, the gaping wound in his shoulder pouring blood, a gleam of white bone shining.

"Ignis, get Gladio!" he cried feebly, giving his gun up for his daggers to block the swing of an axe from one of the MTs.

The blow sent him sprawling to the ground, even as Ignis managed to seize Gladio and drag him backwards toward relative safety. Noctis scrambled to his feet, raising his dagger. It would do no good. He steeled himself for the blow, but it never came. Instead a shot rang out, a bullet piercing perfectly through the MT's head. The machine red glow of its eyes died and it collapsed to the ground. The other two MTs quickly fell as well to two more gunshots.

Noctis followed the direction of the shots with his eyes and saw Prompto. He felt like crying, relieved at seeing his friend alive and well. After the gunshots earlier he'd feared the worst. Prompto came scampering down the platforms, agilely landing on the ground and rushing over to him.

"Are you okay?" Prompto asked.

Noctis could only numbly nod his head.

"I'll hold them off for now, you go check on the big guy," Prompto said, giving Noctis a shaky smile.

Noctis stumbled to his feet and ran over to Ignis and Gladio. Ignis had Gladio on his back, the wound was mostly healed by what Noctis assumed to have been an elixir, but the shock of the blow was lingering. Gladio was horribly pale and looked shocky.

"Iggy?" said Noctis, both announcing his presence and asking a question.

"He'll live, give him a few minutes and he'll be back on his feet."

Noctis nodded his head, though looking at Gladio he didn't feel so sure.

"Look, Noctis, I have a plan, but I need your help."

"Okay," he said, moving closer.

"We still have a bottle of thunder elemancy. I can assemble one of the blizzard bottles so that just the liquid is used. Water acts as a conductor of electricity. If we can get atop the shipping containers and blanket the field with water, we can render our thunder elemancy much more effective."

Noctis nodded his head.

"Okay."

"I need five minutes, just five, keep them back that long and maybe this will give us enough time to get out."

"You'll have your five minutes," he promised, unsure if it would truly happen.

Looking over, he saw Prompto slowly backing up as MTs approached, his shots consistent and true but not enough to fend off the many machines advancing. The only good thing they had going for them tactically was that the bodies were starting to pile up and were providing obstacles for the new MTs. Noctis rushed forward, shooting his own gun and standing by Prompto's side.

The kept shooting, trying to avoid the MTs shots and the more heavily armored axe men. A bullet grazed Prompto's arm and he faltered. An MT stepped forward, axe raised. Noctis shot it between the eyes, skipping out of the way of another MT which had tried to side sweep him. Prompto summoned a short sword and slammed it inexpertly into the MT.

"Noct!" Ignis' voice could be heard.

Noctis glanced back to see Ignis with the jerry-rigged elemancy flasks in hand. Gladio was struggling to sit up, extremely pale and with his sword already summoned. He dashed forward and took the flasks from Ignis. Ignis held onto them though.

"This one is the water, throw it first, try to get it in the middle of the field to do the most damage," he released one of the bottles. "The other is the electricity, do not throw it until the water has settled."

"Got it," said Noctis, little hands struggling to hold the bottles.

"Be safe," said Ignis.

"I know," he replied, then turning his attention to the top of the shipping containers.

He was already exhausted, body worn down and he knew he couldn't warp well in his smaller toddler version self. Focusing, he stuffed the flasks in his pocket, not trusting his mental awareness to pull out the correct ones from the armiger, before then summoning a dagger and throwing it. He warped. This time it was too high, he fell the few feet to the shipping container top, his ankle bending funny and screaming pain at him.

Noctis, breathing harshly and fighting back the black spots dancing in his vision, pushed himself up. He looked out on the open central field of the base and felt despair settle on him. There were hundreds of MTs at least, it seeming like every single one on base had assembled to attack them. There were multiple magitek armors of various builds, he recognized the MA Veles but there were others he didn't.

He looked down at the elemancy and realized that it wasn't going to be enough. It didn't matter, they couldn't just give up. He lobbed the first container, doing a sort of warp to help add force to the throw. He watched it shatter in the air, water spraying out and falling onto a large portion of the field. Taking aim, He threw the thunder elemancy bottle. It shattered on the ground, electricity spreading across the field wherever water was. The effect was amazing, and it dealt a great deal of damage, but the victory was short lived, more were coming.

Noctis limped over to the edge of the shipping container and looked down. He already felt sick, on the edge of stasis. There were only a few MTs left standing and Gladio, who had returned to the fray, along with Prompto, were quickly taking them out. Noctis aimed his dagger and threw it. He warped.

Something went wrong and he fell, about three quarters of the way down, out of warp. He free fell the last feet and hit the ground hard. His vision was spinning and Noctis felt the horribly debilitating effects of stasis slam into him.

"Noct? Noctis?" Ignis sounded terrified, hands searching out for Noctis.

"M'okay," Noctis managed to mumble, sounding far from okay.

Ignis latched onto the sound and moved over to him.

"Are you hurt?" Ignis asked, hand running over Noctis.

Noctis pulled away, forcing himself to look as okay as he possibly could. Gladio and Prompto were coming over, taking the brief respite to regroup.

"That was a damn fancy move, took out a lot of the bastards," Gladio said, looking thankfully at Noctis.

"Ignis put it together," he answered.

"We have a problem though, more are coming," said Prompto, gesturing behind himself with his gun.

Noctis nodded gravely while Gladio's face twisted up.

"How many?" asked Ignis.

"Too many," answered Prompto. "What do we do?"

Ignis looked at a loss, a bit of hopelessness slipping across his face. "I don't know."

Gladio turned to Noctis. "Only thing we got is the Ring."

Noctis felt fear spike in him, phantom pain lingering in his chest and the memories of Luna's bleeding form crawling toward him coming to mind.

"No," he said weakly.

Gladio's face convulsed with anger.

"This is a fine time to be a coward," he spat out.

Ignis jerked, opening his mouth to retort to that.

"No, we're about to die, it's our only choice, and Noctis would rather be a coward. Your father would be ashamed."

Noctis took in Gladio's condemnation, the despair slipping past Ignis' calm mask, Prompto's jittery fear and attempt to be brave. A pit grew in his stomach and he gave a slow nod. Holding his hand out, he summoned the Ring.

It appeared in his hand, a cool innocuous weight. Noctis glanced at Gladio and only saw disgust and expectation. He looked to his other two friends. They would die, Noctis could save them, consequences be damned. With a shaky breath, Noctis slipped on the ring.


	4. Chapter 4

Noctis had never considered the weight his father bore, not like this. It had always been in a vague fearful thought of the future and how one day he would be turned grey before his time, his body failing from the use of the Ring. He'd never imagined this pain, so horrible and all encompassing; like fire burning through every atom in his body.

Noctis had stepped from around the storage containers right before putting the Ring on. Now he stood, body vibrating from the magic of the Ring. Noctis raised a hand, fighting his spasming muscles. Fingers splayed he released the power. MTs were blown back, the magitek armors crumpling at the onslaught. For a few moments, Noctis transcended the pain, his mind whisking him away. The only thing that mattered were the three men behind him and their safety.

Within minutes the entire force of Imperials lay dead, twisted in ruins. Noctis let the power slip back under his skin, his arm fell to his side. The everything came slamming back, the feel of molten lava pouring over him overtook everything and he collapsed, falling into a half-conscious state of pain. He wondered, idly, as his mind sunk beneath the waves of pain, if this was how his father had felt.

 

 

 

 

 

Gladio had only seen Regis use the power of the Ring once, it had been in a short display of power and only on Noctis' behalf. The twelve year old boy had been attacked by would be assassins during a publicity trip to a homeless shelter. Noctis had been wearing an apron, a small satisfied smile on his face as he helped to chop and peel vegetables. Regis had been working alongside him on prepping apples. Someone had tried to shoot the boy and Regis had used his power to protect Noctis.

This, this was different. Noctis stepped forward and then the air pressure had seemed to drop. A potent power filled the air and Noctis had turned grey, a miasmic grey light surrounding him. His hair had been floating on end, as if raised up by some power. Then he'd raised his hand. The devastation dealt to the Imperial fighters was terrifying. At the height of it, Noctis skin seemed to crack, light pouring out from the ashy toned skin through the crevices. Noctis looked like he was dying.

Then he stopped, his arm fell and the power vanished. Noctis then collapsed.

Gladio was rushing forward, hitting the ground hard with his knees. He pulled Noctis into his arms. Noctis' eyes were half-lidded, eyes active and his body twitching. Blood poured down his nose and from his eyes. Gladio's eyes swept over the rest of Noctis and he saw something wet on the front of his shirt. Brushing his fingers against the fabric he pulled them away to see that they were tacky with blood.

Prompto had rushed over as well and was staring down at Noctis, firing away questions.

Gladio raised Noctis' shirt and saw a horrific wound on his chest, it looked old and like it had split back open. Blood was pouring from it. Gladio felt helpless panic settle over him, he had no idea what to do.

"Gladio! Gladio!" Ignis was stumbling over, desperately trying to get to them.

Gladio was dumb, tongue like heavy lead in his mouth as he held his prince, the tiny body bleeding out. This was his fault.

"Damn it!" Ignis bit out, tripping over the body of an MT. "Gladio!"

Prompto was the one to turn to Ignis' aid, grabbing his hand and guiding him over. Ignis was on his knees.

"What does he look like?" Ignis demanded.

Gladio just gaped down at Noctis.

"Status report now, Amicitia," Ignis snapped out.

That triggered some distant memory of practiced instinct.

"Breathing. His heartbeat is accelerated, large wound on chest bleeding, bleeding from mouth, eyes, and nose," Gladio said mechanically, then he added as a soft whisper. "He's shaking from pain."

Ignis cussed, something very uncharacteristic.

"Prompto, get over here," Ignis demanded, a cool calm taking over his voice.

Prompto fell to his knees beside Ignis and Noctis.

"You're going to be my hands and eyes, I want you to feel his ribs, careful, tell me how they feel."

Prompto followed the instructions.

"Umm, like normal?" Prompto said, voice shaking a little.

"Good, now, I want you to put your ear near his mouth, listen to his breathing, let me know if it sounds abnormal."

Prompto complied.

"It, it sounds fine," Prompto said.

"Good, good," Ignis said, sounding relieved. "Let's get his chest wrapped then."

Ignis pulled some supplies from the armiger and began fumbling with them.

"Why don't we use a curative?" Prompto asked, hand already reaching out for the item.

"No!" Ignis said sharply, looking in alarm toward the direction of Prompto's voice. "This wound was caused partially by starscourge, with Noctis having used the Ring of Lucii we have no idea how a curative will interact with it. From what I understand though it could be lethal."

Prompto paled and pulled his hand to his chest, eyes wide with alarm.

"Got it," he said weakly.

Prompto proceeded to help Ignis wrap Noctis' chest, the bandages tight to help the body clot the wound.

"We need to leave, we can find somewhere to treat him better," Ignis said.

Gladio finally managed to make a sound, a small grunt of understanding. He stood then, Noctis clasped in his arms. Ignis, with Prompto's help, lead the way. They walked out of the base, barely sparing any attention to the destruction they had wrought. There were no MTs as of yet, but they didn't doubt that some would soon arrive.

Picking their way across the courtyard, they exited through the main entrance. It was dusk, the sun setting. The field in front of them with all of the aircraft was bright with the metal reflecting the waning sunlight.

"We've missed our time to meet with the boatman. I don't believe there is any other way out of here. We need to find somewhere to lay low."

Prompto let out a soft 'hmm', mind thinking. He made a decision.

"Some of these aircraft, some of them are medical transports, right?" Prompto asked.

Ignis looked surprised, but he gave a nod of his head. "Yes, they're marked with a yellow X, I believe."

"Alright, let's head there," Prompto said, squinting to look out on the airfield.

"You forget, we're not MTs, we don't have the means of accessing the transport, not without help at least."

Prompto shrugged. "We'll figure it out."

Ignis said nothing, merely following Prompto as he searched for a medical transport.

Gladio was numbly walking behind them, face a blank mask, his arms exceedingly gentle as they tried to keep Noctis from being jostled. Ignis couldn't see his friend, but the silence and lack of taking charge were telling enough.

Prompto lead them to a transport and approached the door.

"Uh, just, give me a second."

Pulling his glove off, Prompto placed his wrist against a part of the paneling. There was a mechanical whir and click and the door opened. Gladio who'd been watching, blinked in surprise.

"Prompto, did you just open the door?" Ignis asked, voice hesitant.

"Yup," Prompto tried to sound nonchalant but his voice quavered. "Let's just get inside."

All four entered. Prompto proceeded to use his bar code to turn on some of the medical transport's lights and machinery. A small little ward lay before them, several beds arranged in it. There was another door, which Prompto approached to open. Past it was a surgical room.

"Prompto, what does it look like?" Ignis asked.

"First room has beds, the next room looks like some kind of torture room. There are some shelves with pointy things and a metal table in the middle."

"Ah, a surgical room," Ignis replied softly. "Gladio, set him on a bed."

Gladio followed the orders.

"Let's get him cleaned up," Ignis said. "Prompto, are there any clean cloths, and possibly some hot water?"

"Just a sec," Prompto replied.

A few minutes later he returned with all the supplies. As soon as he dropped them off, he started to walk away, head ducked down. Ignis threw a hand out, hitting his waist but quickly finding his forearm and gripping it.

"Stay, I need your help," Ignis said softly.

Prompto wavered. "But-"

"It doesn't matter how, or why, I don't care about your past, Prompto. We need you here with us."

Prompto's eyes shined with tears and he quickly rubbed at his face.

"Okay, if you say so," he replied, voice tight with emotion.

Gladio still looked in shock, staring down at Noctis with vacant and agonized eyes.

Ignis gently guiding Prompto with his voice, they got Noctis stripped of his dirty clothes and cleaned up of blood and gore. More minor wounds were tended and the massive wound on his chest was cleaned and re-wrapped. Ignis said that it would need to heal on its own. They could stay there the night and leave in the morning to meet with the boatman.

When Prompto asked about the Crystal the only response he got was silence. As soon as Noctis was settled, Gladio stood and went into the surgery room, shutting the door behind him. Prompto had seated himself on the bed beside Noctis, one hand petting Noctis' hair.

Ignis made to get up and follow Gladio.

"Wait, don't you-" Prompto fumbled with his words.

"Don't I what?" Ignis asked.

Prompto's face screwed up and he looked again like he was about to cry.

"I'm an magitek trooper, Ignis."

There was a beat of silence.

"I know," Ignis replied, beginning again to walk away.

Prompto stood up, throwing himself after Ignis.

"Doesn't that matter? Shouldn't you not leave him with me? I'm the enemy!" Prompto cried.

Ignis paused, turning back around.

"If you're the enemy Prompto, then why did you risk everything to save us?"

Prompto was silent.

"I certainly don't care about your origins. You are Prompto, not some weapon. Do you see Noctis as just the prince, as just the key to using the Crystal's power?"

"No! He's my best friend, not just some tool," Prompto retorted, indignant that Ignis would even suggest that.

"And you are his. I trust you Prompto, trust yourself."

With that, Ignis turned and walked out of the room and into the one where Gladio had disappeared. Prompto frowned, trying to analyze Ignis' words. He looked over at his friend and walked back to the bed. Ignis just, accepted it, who and what he was. How? And if Ignis, the most careful and shrewd of the group trusted him what would that mean for Gladio? Or more importantly for Noctis?

Prompto sat back on the bed, fingers returning to gently stroking Noctis' hair.

 

 

 

 

 

Ignis was tired, everything hurt, his shin felt like it might be broken or fractured from how often he'd tripped over items. He was beyond frustrated with his own blindness and he was terrified for Noctis. And yet, he had a duty to his friends, one which he had slowly discovered on their trip to be something which outstripped everything, even duty to king and country.

So he reassured Prompto, every word honest, because if Prompto was the enemy than the sky was orange. Now he just needed to set Gladio straight. Walking into the surgery room he shut the door behind him. He stretched a hand out and felt the wall. Proceeding, he felt his way along the wall and then, using it as a crutch, sank to sit on the ground.

It was silent.

"So," Ignis said, hoping that Gladio was there, awake and listening.

Gladio didn't respond. Ignis adjusted himself.

"It's a tad cold, but at least it doesn't smell," he said conversationally.

"What do you want Ignis?"

Gladio sounded emotionally fraught, tone heavy with guilt and a tired quality which scared Ignis. They could not give up, not now.

"Company," Ignis replied lightly.

Gladio let out a wry, wet snort.

"If you've come here to tell me that I've failed, then I already know it. Though I suppose it wouldn't hurt to hear it again," Gladio said with bitter humour.

"I thought the failure of the Shield to the regent of the Lucis throne was only at the regent's preventable and unnatural death," Ignis replied. "As far as I'm aware Noctis is very much alive."

Gladio let out a breath of disbelief and Ignis could hear him move slightly to adjust himself.

"I've been telling him to put on a ring that would kill him, and I've called him weak and a coward for basically not killing himself."

"You have been a bit of a brat," Ignis replied.

"He could've died," Gladio said, such despair in his tone that Ignis felt his own chest ache in sympathy. "Because of me."

"And he is alive, because of you," Ignis countered.

"Why don't you leave me alone?" Gladio asked, self-hatred oozing in his tone.

Ignis felt anger rush through him.

"Because, you're duty is not fulfilled. Suck it up. You're not the only one to have failed and suffered."

Gladio was struck silent by the sharpness in Ignis' tone.

"I'll let you in on a secret. You're not the only one struggling, you're not the only one who feels inadequate in the face of the world's end and the weight we are all carrying. Yet you are the only one who believes that this is somehow your burden to bear alone."

Ignis paused, taking in a breath.

"Because guess what? I'm an adviser who is blind. Prompto is the retainer of someone who he was biologically engineered to kill. If the sheer situational irony isn't enough, our lives are messes. But we are surviving because we are depending on each other. We're not strong, we won't be, you will not be. But together we can hold each other up. You need to accept that you're weak, because you are, we all are, and you need to move on."

Ignis shifted, feeling uncomfortably emotional.

"We'll help you Gladio," Ignis said softly.

A moment later he heard a sob. Ignis listened to Gladio softly cry, something he'd never before experienced. He'd seen the man tear up, he'd seen him disappear on a long walk to return with red rimmed eyes. But he had never witnessed Gladiolus Amicitia cry.

Ignis awkwardly shuffled over to where he could hear his friend. His foot bumped into Gladio's thigh. Scooting closer, Ignis felt out Gladio's shoulder. He set his hand there and left it.

After a minute, Gladio had calmed down.

"I think I kinda get why Iris does this," Gladio said, sounding a little lighter.

"Crying?" Ignis said. "Yes, it is beneficial for both mental and physical health."

Gladio let out a wet laugh. Ignis felt relief flood him.

"I believe sleep is also another healthy practice, are you familiar with it?" Ignis asked, teasing.

Gladio shook his head.

"Alright."

Gladio stood up and helped Ignis to his feet. They made their way into the other room. Gladio chuckled.

"What is it?" Ignis asked quietly.

"Prompto's on the bed with Noctis, he looks like a koala."

Ignis smiled at the imagery. Gladio helped him settle on the bed right next to Noctis, setting his glasses on a little ledge and then moving over to his own bed on the other side of Noctis. Ignis fell asleep, trying not to worry about the battles of tomorrow while still celebrating the small victories of today.

 

 

 

 

 

Noctis woke up to a widespread pain throughout his body. He was in a bed, and someone was curled around him protectively. He let his eyes stay shut, half awake mind thinking that it was his father, come again to stay with him while he was sick. Regis had often done that, climbed into the hospital bed next to Noctis, curling his body around him as if he could protect Noctis from the world.

Memories however came back, and the pain was too strong to let him fall back asleep. Noctis opened his eyes and turned to look at the figure of Prompto, stretched out in the bed next to him. Prompto was fast asleep. Carefully, Noctis tried to squirm away. His chest burst with pain and he let out a stifled gasp.

There was movement and a large palm was easing him back into a position where his chest didn't feel like it was on fire. Noctis opened his eyes to see Gladio standing over the bed. Noctis noted that for the first time in what felt like forever, Gladio didn't look angry or tense.

"You in pain?" Gladio asked in a whisper.

Noctis nodded his head wearily, feeling a stab of shame at his weakness. Gladio seemed to see Noctis' self-flagellation on his face and his eyes fell away.

"Give me a second," Gladio said.

He disappeared, returning a moment later with a cup of water and something in his palm.

"Iggy said you could take this, it's not much but it should help."

Gladio set the cup to the side and his hand went behind Noctis' back, helping him sit up. He pressed a pill which had been quartered to Noctis' lips and then brought the cup of water up. Noctis eagerly drank the water. When he finished he let out a breath of exhaustion, the weight of his head and back held up still by Gladio. Noctis felt so weak.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be," Gladio said.

For once he didn't sound angry, if anything he sounded sad and guilty. Noctis opened his eyes and looked in confusion at his Shield. Gladio was looking down at him with eyes full of sorrow and regret.

"You're not a coward Noctis."

Noctis blinked, thrown by this sudden change. He fidgeted, feeling uncomfortable under Gladio's intense look.

"I was the coward, and I was the weak one. Will you forgive me for failing you?"

Noctis for some reason felt like crying, some incredible weight lifting from his shoulders. He hadn't realized how much it meant to him to feel like Gladio had his back, and not just physically.

"You, you don't blame me?" Noctis said softly, meaning everything, from Altissia back to the death of Gladio's father.

"No. I never should have," Gladio replied.

Noctis sniffed, holding his tears at bay and letting the words sink in. Gladio waited with bated breath for Noctis' answer.

"I don't forgive you."

Gladio looked stricken.

"Nothing to forgive," Noctis said, smiling crookedly at his Shield.

Gladio was teary eyed and he surreptitiously wiped at his eyes before ducking his head away.

"You need anything else, squirt?"

"Not from you old man," Noctis quipped back.

Gladio raised a brow, but there was a tiny smile on his face. He gently adjusted Noctis on the bed. The two then fell back asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

In the morning, Ignis had Prompto and Gladio help him inspect Noctis' injury. He claimed that it looked a lot better. They ate some rations that were stored in the medical transport, before then sneaking out of it. MTs could be seen far away at the base which had been devastated. They were like little ants, marching about and clearing away the debris. None were in the airfield and the four were able to make their way to the dock.

The boatman showed up at the time he promised. They paid him and began their trip back down the river. Though things were less strained between most of them, Prompto was sitting apart, having barely spoken to any of them.

They made it back to Milcoup and decided to head back to Isabella's. The Regalia would be there by the next day and since the rumour on the Crystal had lead to a dead end they were left with free time.

Isabella got them a late breakfast and chatted them up, telling them all about the most recent gossip about the increased daemon sightings and the waning daylight. After they finished eating, they decided, Noctis not wanting to sit around in a bed, to go down and see the river. Ignis insisted that they only way any of them were going out was if Noctis promised to let someone carry him the whole time and to tell him straight away if he wasn't feeling well.

They ended up seated by the riverside, Gladio fishing with Noctis right beside him, the two talking about fish. Ignis sat a little farther back, a nervous Prompto fiddling with his camera.

"You should tell him," Ignis said.

"Yeah, sure," Prompto said noncommittally, fingers drumming against his thigh.

Minutes passed. There was a cry of pain from Noctis and then Gladio was kneeling next to him. Ignis, with Prompto helping him, came over.

Noctis was kneeling, head in his hands, and fingers clutching into his hair.

"Noct?" Gladio asked, looking worried.

"What's going on?" Ignis asked.

"Noctis is holding his head, he looks like he's in pain," Gladio explained.

There was nothing they could do but wait and watch. After several minutes, Noctis' hands fell away from his head and he looked up at them. They waited for him to speak.

"That was, Gentiana. She said she could help me change back."

"How?" Ignis said.

"Umm, I just need to call on the Six's favor. All of them. She said the magic is too weak to withstand them all."

Ignis gave a nod of his head.

"Why didn't she tell you that sooner?" Gladio asked.

Noctis shrugged. "She said the magic also temporarily made it so she couldn't speak with me, none of the Six could."

"So, uh, where should you 'call on the Six'?" Prompto asked, glancing about.

There wasn't anyone nearby, this part of the river a little ways down from the town.

"I guess here, the sooner I'm out of this stupid body, the better."

"Alright," Ignis said.

The three stepped back from Noctis. Noctis for his part bit his lip, glancing at them before then closing his eyes. Nothing happened at first. Then a bright light burst around him, cloaking him from view. When it died down, he was himself again, small clothing wrenched, and him very naked.

"Oh, six, he needs clothes like right now," Prompto said, summoning some from the armiger and tossing them at Noctis.

Noctis barely paid them any heed, instead pushing himself up to his hands and knees, and vomiting. Gladio was the one who moved forward, helping Noctis sit up. Noctis was shaky and feverish again, his chest had also started bleeding, still injured from before.

Gladio helped him into underwear and pants before then getting Ignis over to help with the bandages. When that was done, Gladio stepped over, grabbing Noctis' arm and pulling it over his shoulder.

"Damn, you're a lot heavier than I remember."

Noctis said nothing in reply, still not feeling well.

They decided to head back. Isabella was surprised to see them short of their kid and with a full grown man instead, but she didn't say anything. They put Noctis to bed, and then passed the time hanging out in the room.

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning, Noctis feeling better, the four headed for the station. As they walked, Prompto hung behind. Noctis slowed down, letting Ignis and Gladio, who were chatting quietly, take the lead.

"What's up with you Prom?" Noctis asked.

Prompto's eyes skittered away and his shoulders hunched as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Prompto replied, sounding anything but.

Noctis frowned, moving to set a hand on Prompto's shoulder. Prompto flinched away.

"Prompto, what's this about?" Noctis asked, looking in worry at his friend.

Prompto was crying now, head hanging.

"I-I can't tell you," Prompto said. "You'd hate me."

Noctis looked shocked.

"Prom, is this about you being an MT?" He asked.

Prompto's head whipped up, shock in his gaze.

"Because, Ignis told me, and I don't care," Noctis said.

"How can you not care?" Prompto asked, staring in disbelief at Noctis. "I was engineered to kill, I was made to destroy you."

Noctis shook his head. "That's a bit specific, I'd say that you were made to just kill Lucians in general."

Prompto just stared in horror at Noctis. Noctis realized his joke hadn't reassured his friend as much as he'd wanted it to. Noctis looked unsure for a moment before pulling Prompto in for a hug.

"You're Prompto, my best friend. You could be Ardyn's love child with an ugly daemon monster and I'd still love you."

Prompto let out a sob and hugged Noctis back.

"Even if I had warts all over my face?"

"Yup, warts and all," Noctis replied.

"What about tentacles?" Prompto asked.

Noctis pulled back, seeing a teasing look replacing Prompto's fearful one from before.

"Even the tentacles."

They kept walking, Gladio and Ignis having discreetly waited several meters ahead.

"What about," Prompto took a second to think, "buck teeth?"

Noctis rolled his eyes.

"Yeah sure, buck teeth as well."

"What about if I turned into a vegetable, like a giant carrot or a piece of broccoli."

Noctis narrowed his eyes. "Okay, well maybe not if you were a vegetable."

"Hey!" Prompto cried with mock indignation.

They continued on still bantering, Prompto coming up with ridiculous things.

When they arrived at the train, they were able to get new tickets and the Regalia was transferred to the train they would be riding on.

"So, to Gralea?" Noctis said, about to step on board the train. "You guys ready?"

"Way ahead of you!" Prompto cried, throwing himself on board.

Gladio placed a hand on Noctis' shoulder and gave him a bolstering look, heading on after Prompto. Ignis came up beside Noctis and placed his hand on his forearm.

"We're all behind you, every step of the way," Ignis said.

Noctis smiled, stepping onto the train with Ignis and feeling like maybe, with these three men beside him, he could actually save the world.


End file.
